


A Song for You

by torchbright



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, idk they decided to talk about it after the current world-ending conflict, implied past amell/leliana, maybe current amell/leliana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torchbright/pseuds/torchbright
Summary: [Originally written March 2018] A Warden and a spirit talk. Cole is pushed to try wine and the Warden is pushed to think about the woman and past she'd left behind.





	A Song for You

**Author's Note:**

> When will the Warden return from war?

\- - -

 

The Warden swirled the wine glass round and round, eyes following the fluid movement. She sat alone in a corner, draped in pensive silence, faraway from candles and lanterns.

 

It was well past midnight and the louder more excitable patrons of Herald’s Rest had retired for the evening, most off to their beds, some sprawled across tables or the floor. Save for the occasional drunken mumble or tired conversation between Cabot and his helpers, the only source of sound came from the wood cracking in the fireplace.

 

“They put you in a cage.”

 

Wine glass slipping from her fingers, the Warden had her knife drawn and pointed at the gaunt, narrow chin of the person who had suddenly appeared behind her and spoke, well before the glass tipped over and spilled its contents across the wooden table. 

 

For a moment they regarded each other: the Warden tense and ready to spring and the spirit they called Cole, wide-eyed with curiosity and something akin to wonder. 

 

Her grip on the knife tightened. Drawing her lips back in a smile that threatened to cut, she said, “I’m sorry?”

 

Cole made no attempt to move or defend himself. When she pulled her knife on him he didn’t bother to flinch, much less blink. Even now he continued to stare. “They put you in a cage,” he repeated, softer than before.

 

She’d seen something like him before. Years ago in Amaranthine, she had fought side to side with the spirit-possessed corpse of a fellow warden. Yet while Kristoff had steadily and unrelentingly rotted over time, Cole looked as alive as anyone else, if a bit pale and on the emaciated side. No, this was more like… She glanced at the wine bottle. 

 

There were those among the Inquisitor’s inner circle who remained suspicious of him, and with good reason, what with the tear in the sky and demons pouring into the world. From what she’d seen since she arrived at Skyhold, he hasn’t harmed any of the inhabitants - yet. 

 

Still, Leliana didn’t think of him as a threat and if Leliana was fine with him then... Slowly, the Warden withdrew her knife and gestured to the seat across from her with feigned carelessness, as if she wasn’t just holding him at knife-point. 

 

He moved with no noise; she kept her eyes on him the entire time until he slouched in his seat, knees drawn up to his chin. 

 

Righting her spilt glass, the Warden refilled it and took an indulgent sip while Cole stared. Even with Leliana’s little warnings about Cole’s… tendencies, the Warden was still unnerved. 

 

“You were saying?” She said, hoping that by making conversation they could move on from the quiet, unnerving staring. 

 

Cole’s eyes disappeared underneath the wide brim of his hat and his voice became a mumble, “Feelings and memories. I heard them. You were remembering-”

 

“Yes, yes, “ she interrupted, just harsh enough for Cabot to glance over. 

 

Cole’s mouth snapped shut and he withdrew like he’d been admonished.

 

She gulped down her wine. Leliana warned her about this too, but she still wasn’t ready for him to pull that on her. 

 

“They put you in a cage,” he mumbled, “until the sound of song and rot burst from the ground.” He peered up at her. “You left the cage to become a cage, holding the song and rot inside.”

 

She poured another glassful and polished it off before speaking, a sardonic smile on her lips, “Careful there, uncovering Grey Warden secrets is punishable by conscription.” 

 

Cole blinked. “Am I going to be a warden?”

 

“We’ve had a walking corpse amongst our ranks, why not you?”

 

“But I’m not a corpse.”

 

She eyed him. Then smiled. “No. You’re not. Otherwise they wouldn’t let you near the kitchens.”

 

“They don’t let me near the kitchens. But I’m quiet and careful.”

 

“That you are.”

 

Leliana also said he could be surprisingly childlike. 

 

“Little white flowers, pressed to her heart. Little gifts and songs and stories; her hand in the dark. The song inside your cage grows louder. But hers is the only you want to hear.”

 

Heart thumping in her chest, the Warden slowly leaned back in her seat. 

 

He watched her expectantly. For what, she didn’t know, but she was unnerved all the same. More so than before. 

 

With slightly unsteady hands, she poured more wine. 

 

When the admonishment and anger that usually came his way after saying something like that didn’t come, he continued, “You’re remembering. You’re always remembering. But it’s so much louder tonight.”

 

Her hand tightened into a fist reflexively; the scrapes and scars she collected over the years stretching out harshly. When she catches him looking at the scars, she forces herself to relax. Unclench. Forces a smile on. 

 

“Makes sense. I’m afraid.”

 

His eyes widen. “You admit it?”

 

She shrugged with a nonchalance they both knew she didn’t have. “Better I admit it than have you say it for me.”

 

“But why?” He leaned in, eager. 

 

“Why what?” 

 

“Why are you afraid when you’re remembering? When you think about her?”

 

The Warden paused. She knew the answer. She’s always known the answer. With his large pale eyes staring expectantly up at her, the words slid out before she had a chance to swallow it down. “Being this close to everything I want just makes it easier to see all the ways I can lose it.” 

 

She lifts the glass to her lips, pauses, then sets the wine in front of Cole. 

 

He glances at it, unsure.

 

“Go on. It’s quite good.”

 

Hesitantly he takes a sip only to immediately scrunge up his face. “It’s… awful!”

 

She laughs, looking and sounding younger than she has in a long time. 

 

“She’s always remembering you too.”

 

And just like that her laughter disappears, the lines carved by the years that passed reappearing in its place. 

 

“She remembers singing. For you.” Cole continued, nails tapping against the wine glass clutched between his hands. “You should go see her right now. Maybe she’ll sing for you again.” 

 

The Warden fell silent and he wondered if he angered her again. But she merely smirked, leaned against her palm and said, “I will if you finish that wine.” 

 

She’s trying to tease him, distract herself from remembering the one that’s always in her thoughts, the things that make her so afraid. Maybe that’s why her mocking smile looks so sad. 

 

When he gingerly takes another sip and gags, she chuckles. And he thinks that maybe if he humors her, she’ll be less afraid when she finally goes to find her song. 


End file.
